


Finger Licking Good

by WeeklyReportWithJamesCheetham



Category: 19th Century RPF - Fandom, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Also btw I don't ship Jeffburr that was totally accidental, Chapter 4 is ur present, Don't Read This, Happy bday tommy, Historically Inaccurate, Reincarnate au, There’s one foot licking, This has almost nothing to do with KFC, This is what happens when you don't have a plot, thats jiberty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-03-27 01:58:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13870698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeeklyReportWithJamesCheetham/pseuds/WeeklyReportWithJamesCheetham
Summary: Plotless writing gone wrong





	1. Hamilton

Wincing slightly from the pain in his back, the Colonel opened his eyes. He found himself curled up against the mass that resembled Hamilton. Gently untangling himself from the older man, he got up and moved towards the door. The light that was flooding through the cracks had led him to conclude that the power had returned to the building. As he motioned towards the door, he heard a rustle behind him. 

“Where are you going?” asked a tired Hamilton.

Burr froze and turned back to him. “I wasn't aware of the fact that you were awake,” he stated hesitantly.

Hamilton, sensing that Burr was well aware of the position they had been in a few moments ago, smirked. “You are quite the sleeper, Colonel,” he teased slightly, standing up and stretching. “I wouldn’t have been able to sleep if I had tried.”

Blushing slightly, Burr sighed, rubbing his temples. “Very well. The electric power has returned again.” He opened the door, letting the light flood the room. The General groaned behind him, causing Burr to snicker. “Get up, dear Soldier, we have work to do! Or, if you don’t want to fulfill the duties of today, we could, perhaps, do more… exploring.”

Hamilton grinned slightly. “Why do I always assume that you are going to propose that we do something indecent when you say that phrase?” he asked.

“Well…” Burr paused, before turning around and walking towards the man. “If that is what you desire…” He walked over to the man a pinned him to the wall, “I am willing to comply,” he gently put a hand on Hamilton’s shirt and picked at the top button; the latter man blushed and pushed him away.

“I… wha…” Burr snickered as his companion struggled to form a sentence. He gently curled his hand around the other man’s wrist and tugged it. Hamilton’s eyes widened slightly. “Burr, I command you to release my hand.”

“Oh?” He lifted up said hand and stroked its fingers. He lifted it up to his lips and raised an eye at the smoldering General, as if daring him to pull away. 

“Colonel Burr-“ he mumbled. Burr looked up into his eyes and suddenly realized how close he was standing to his companion.

“Yes, Soldier?” he laid his mouth on the pointer finger and began to kiss it.

“I don’t believe we should be committing such acts in—“ he was interrupted by the feeling of his fingers entering the smaller man’s mouth.

“What are you—“ He yanked his hand away from him. “Absolutely not.”

Burr looked up, smirking. “Why?” He asked, taking his hand again.

Hamilton looked at him, his face flushed. “You are a vile man, Colonel.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Burr took another step closer. “And you were the one who suggested that I’d do something indecent to you.” 

Hamilton mumbled an awkward, “I didn’t mean it that way,” and shut his eyes, for Burr had resumed sucking his fingers.

They remained in that position for a few moments; the General backed up against the wall; the Colonel laid against him with the man’s hand in his mouth. There was suddenly a loud crack, and the two of them jumped up and looked outside.

“What—“ Hamilton looked outside and spotted a figure running away from their building. He stiffened against the younger man’s body. “Someone saw us!” he pushed away his colleague. “This is all your fault, Colonel!”

The Colonel narrowed his eyes, attempting to assign the massive shape to a name he knew. “It’s only Wilkinson,” Burr stated casually. “No one will believe him, hopefully.”

Hamilton’s eyes widened. “HOPEFULLY?!” he yelled. “YOU MEAN TO SAY—-“ the man cut himself off and began to tremble.

His companion laid a had on his shoulder. “General, calm down. It is not like Wilkinson to spread slander. And besides, what does it matter? We, President Washington, and Troup are the only reincarnates who Remember, anyway.”

Hamilton curled his lip and didn’t say anything. The Colonel sighed, kissed the man’s hand one last time, and left the room to prepare for the day.


	2. Wilkinson

Burr was (quite literally) backed into a corner. The man had revealed his cause, and though he had agreed to keep this information hidden, had asked for a price.

The Colonel glowered at the man. “What is it that you wish for?” He asked coldly. Wilkinson curled a hand around the younger man’s face. 

“Open your mouth,” he commanded in a deadly voice. Before Burr could react, the man hooked his thumb on the inside of his cheek and stretched it. He quickly slipped four of his pudgy fingers into the Colonel’s mouth. Satisfied, he smirked at the blushing man, who had begun to fulfill his duty of sucking on the provided fingers. He scraped the man’s teeth gently and held him closer.

“It is my desire to put more of these fine specimens inside of you. Will you allow me to satisfy this need of mine?” He watched Burr nod and gently slipped in a few more. To his surprise and disappointment, however, he felt the man gag and pull out, spluttering. 

“I— I am not capable of—-“ Burr gasped, coughing slightly. Wilkinson looked at him, dissatisfaction etched across his features.

“Very well,” he muttered, stepping away. “I will expect to meet you tomorrow, Colonel Burr, it discuss the matters that we had conversed about earlier.” Wilkinson took one last chance to admire the helpless man, straightened his tie, and left the room.

Burr, thoroughly disturbed with his lack of resistance, gasped and collapsed onto the floor. He shut his eyes tight and shuddered, for he had been reminded of an… embarrassing memory that he had.

He and…. him.

He closed his eyes. He must not think of Jefferson. He shall not remember the Election of 1800...

… He thought of Jefferson and the Election of 1800.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turn back now it gets way worse


	3. Jefferson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I did a lil’ bit of revisions for Jeffy over here but they’re probably not good enough—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stop Reading. Just. Stop.

Burr greeted the taller man with a glare, and received one in turn. He watched as the man drew closer to him, before finally sliding into the seat next to him.

“So,” Jefferson sighed, putting his head in his hands. “Are you ready to begin?”

Burr cringed. Do it for the country. “Very well,” he gritted his teeth. “I had expected the actual competition to be better than this, but may the best man become president.” He turned away from his future nemesis and stared straight ahead at the lined up congressmen. 

“Trust me, Colonel,” the man attempted at a smile, which turned out to be more of a grimace. “I wish that these traditions didn’t exist, either.”

Burr leaned back slightly. He remembered hearing rumors of this event taking place in the House of Representatives, but he had never thought to do any research into it. He had marked it off as Fake News, but it apparently wasn’t...

… but that was unimportant now. He shut his eyes and he felt someone reach into his mouth. He sucked on the wriggling skin and bones inside, and waited for more to enter. He seemed to have successfully satisfy the first man, for he pulled out soon after and the next hand came in. The process continued to repeat until….

Burr registered the width of the man’s porky fingers before he tasted them. They were lumpy and warm, and tasted slightly saltier than the others. The man slipped in the fifth finger, and he gagged slightly; he was unsure of whether or not he could fit anymore in him. Now the man was leaning slightly closer to him, and he could feel the heat of his rancid breath. He winced slightly— he had never been any good with these kinds of fingers, for he never knew how to suck them in a satisfying way. He felt the man slip in another few fingers, forcing the rest of his hand to slide down into the back of the Colonel’s throat.

It was too much for Burr.

He gagged and drew out, before turning over and throwing up on the floor. The entire room fell silent. He looked over and saw, too his immense disappointment, that Jefferson was still in the challenge. He saw the man’s eyes widen at him in shock, before he closed them again to resume his… business. Aaron wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and sighed.

So it had been for nothing.

“And I will now present to you, the new president of the United States of America: Thomas Jefferson…”

***

Burr decided to make up for his humiliation by drinking down a few pints. Unfortunately, he ran into Jefferson a while after that, which didn’t seem to help with his mood.

“How may I help you, Mister President?” he asked, holding out his hand mockingly. To his surprise, however, his companion’s eyes dilated, and he gently took the man’s hand in his own.

“Well…” the man stared at it for a few moments, not comprehending, before hoisting it upwards. “Uhm...” the President glanced down at him nervously, before turning back to the object he was holding. “Uhm… I don’t think you have heard about the other thing we have to do…” The man looked around frantically.

Burr raised an eyebrow. “What?” He asked coldly. The next thing Burr registered was the feeling of his fingers in a moist and warm environment; he felt himself hook the inside of the man’s teeth scrape them gently. Jefferson slowly maneuvered his other hand so that it was clenched around his prize, but he was suddenly interrupted by the feeling of being slammed into the wall by the younger man.

“You mean this, do you?” Burr muttered, looking up at him. Jefferson, flustered, didn’t respond, but had instead adjusted the position of his hands and applied pressure to the one place where the Colonel desired it; the Colonel moaned loudly.

“Lead the way, President.” Burr hissed.

***

The next morning, Burr rolled over in the bed he was in to find a horrified Jefferson staring at back at him. “Did we… just… do the thing?” he gasped hoarsely. Burr looked under the bedsheets and looked back at him, just as horrified. The memories of the last night came flooding back to them, and they both looked away from each other in both disgust and resolve. 

“Well, at least we got that over with,” Burr sighed. He looked around. “Where even are we?” 

The President stared at him for a few moments, before looking down again. “There are a lot of things they don’t tell you about running for Presidency. I… uh...“ he stuttered before rounding on Burr. “You…. uhm…. will not leave this room until an hour has passed after my departure so that we can avoid suspicion. Please don’t ever speak of this again.”

Burr nodded and touched the red-haired man’s shoulder. “Mr. Jefferson, why would I ever do any such thing?” he asked quietly. Jefferson pushed him away. He nodded curtly and stood up; Burr politely looked away while the other man dressed at top speed. He silently cursed himself for not thinking about the consequences of running for President, and for not doing enough digging to see what was actually going on in the cursed capital.

His thought process was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging shut. He waited for a few moments, before getting up and stretching.

There was work to be done.


	4. A Jiberty Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I pause to write some Jefferson X Liberty, and things escalate to the point where I wonder why I am considered a mentally sane person still.

The red-haired president looked around, confirmed that there was no one nearby, and bent forward to lick the statue’s luscious toes. The big toe came first; there was a small amount of filth on it, but the first thing the man really registered when he scraped his teeth into the bumpy copper was the cold, sharp, metallic taste that it contained.

The tall man inhaled sharply before resuming his work; he licked up the entire toe, occasionally digging in and allowing himself a little nibble here and there at the metal; he gently sucked on the tip beneath the perfectly carved toenails and stroked the Lady’s leg here and there. He soon found himself wrapping his mouth around the edge of the statue’s sandal in an attempt to gag himself. While this turned out to be partially unsuccessful, it still produced the results he desired. He could almost imagine the inanimate object emitting soft moans from over three hundred feet above ground, and the mere thought alone made him tighten in… ah, certain places.

Thomas Jefferson soon finished up the first toe and began to lick his way towards the next one, silently admiring the change in landscape and the way the toes dipped in the middle. He began to rock back and forth while murmuring sweet little nothings to himself. 

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, for his left hand found itself moving towards his abdomen to begin the second part of this process. He felt the hand slide itself into the tight environment that he had created for himself, sliding here and there until said hand was wrapped around a certain fine instrument. Jefferson jerked his hand forward slightly, groaned into Lady Liberty’s foot, and proceeded to stroke the machine a couple of times. It was a laborious process, but a joyful one for him, and soon after completing his job with the statue’s foot he found himself expelling the instrument’s contents into the cloth that wrapped around his hands. He moaned the Lady’s name loudly at this, before pulling out his hand, licking it, and savoring it’s contents.

Aaron Burr’s nemesis looked up at the lovely statue one more time, stuttered out an affectionate, “Let my love for you never be forgotten, My Dear,” and kissed her foot. Jefferson turned around thereafter and left the sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday tommy flesh


End file.
